


With All My Heart

by ZombieBabs



Series: Lost Under The Surface 'Verse [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9719480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Jumin is out of town on business.Inspired by the Valentine's Day update. Same universe as 'lost under the surface (but i'm feeling just fine),' but before the epilogue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad I got this done by Valentine's Day! I hope everyone is celebrating the holiday with a ton of chocolate and your significant others (platonic or otherwise!). <3

It’s early morning and the cafe is crowded. The queue is one long line of black and brown business suits. Some have phones pressed to their ears while others stare down at their wrists, where gleaming watches count down the minutes until they need to be at work. 

Hands full with steaming mugs of coffee, M.C. nearly crashes into the customer behind her. “Sorry, sorry,” she says, dodging out of the way at the last second.

She sets one mug down in front of the brown haired woman at the table and cradles the other in both hands as she sits down in the empty seat across from her. She gives a harried sigh, then smiles at Jaehee. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to meet me? You don’t need to be at the office?”

Jaehee takes a deep breath, inhaling the steam of her coffee, a small, pleased smile on her face. “Since Mr. Han is out of the country, it’s a little more relaxed at the office. As long as I get all of my work done, meeting you here shouldn’t be a problem. What about you? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Since I switched to part-time to focus more on the RFA events, my hours are more flexible. It’s pretty much the same situation: as long as I get all of the work done, my boss doesn’t care when I show up.”

“That must be nice,” Jaehee says.

M.C. shrugs. “I won’t lie. Setting my own schedule is pretty great, especially with Jumin’s schedule being so unpredictable.”

“It’s unfortunate he has to be away during Valentine’s day,” Jaehee says. She takes a sip of her coffee. “I hope his leaving so suddenly didn’t disrupt any plans?”

M.C. smiles. “It’s disappointing, for sure. It’s our first Valentine’s day together as a couple. But we’ve both been so busy lately, neither of us really decided on anything definite.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, M.C.,” Jaehee says. “Perhaps you can make it up at another time.”

“I’m sure we will.” She laughs. “You might be surprised to hear this, but Jumin’s a pretty romantic guy. I’m actually afraid to see what he could come up with on a day actually devoted to romance.”

Jaehee hides a smile in her mug. “I will have to take your word for it. Mr. Han is still reserved around me and the rest of his staff. But that’s to be expected. I imagine he’s very aware of Mr. Chairman’s reputation, even if his father hasn’t had a new girlfriend since the scandal with Glam Choi.”

“I heard that from Jumin,” M.C. says. She finally takes a sip from her own coffee, confident it’s cooled down enough not to burn her tongue. “I think he and his father are getting along better now.”

“That’s good to hear. They’ve always been close, from what I’ve observed, but Mr. Han has always been frustrated with some of his father’s...personal choices.”

M.C. nods. “From what Jumin tells me, they’re starting to work that out. I think the Glam Choi incident really opened his eyes. It’s not just his and the company’s reputation on the line, but Jumin’s, as well.”

“Speaking of reputation,” Jaehee says. Her eyes do a quick scan of the cafe’s patrons. “How are you dealing with suddenly being in the spotlight? I don’t see any of Mr. Han’s bodyguards.”

M.C. grins. “I know, I gave them the slip. Jumin _hates_ it when I do it, but I think they just draw more attention.” Her smile falls a little. “But it’s difficult. I’m not really all that special, but now the whole _world_ knows my name. There are message boards online devoted to what I wear every day. Total strangers suddenly want pictures with me. And I’m _still_ the subject of gossip in those entertainment magazines. Now the rumor is that I’m some secret heiress to a Fortune 500 company overseas.”

Jaehee laughs. “Sorry. I know it must be difficult, but they’re getting more and more creative.”

“I know. _Way_ off the mark, though. I’m just a normal college grad, with a normal job and a normal apartment--not counting the one I lived in for a week, before we found out about the _bomb_ and the _cultist_ who took me hostage.”

“Perhaps you’re not quite as normal as you believe,” Jaehee says. “You did win Mr. Han’s heart, after all.”

“If you want to put it _that_ way,” M.C. says. She shrugs, but a smile still tugs at her lips. “I _guess_ you can put it that way.”

They talk for a few more minutes, before Jaehee takes a look at her watch. “I should be getting back.”

“Yeah, I should probably show my face at work today. Take my mind off the fact that Jumin’s on his trip.”

“I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciate that you’re looking after Elizabeth the 3rd. My job has gotten significantly more bearable since you took over that responsibility.”

M.C. shakes her head. “I love Elizabeth. I don’t mind watching her.”

“Still,” Jaehee says, shuddering. “No more c-furs. It’s really a blessing.”

They both stand. M.C. throws her messenger bag over her shoulder. They make their way to the exit. On the sidewalk, M.C. hugs Jaehee to say goodbye. “I say this every time I talk to you, but if you still aren’t happy with your job, even without having to watch Elizabeth, I could ask Jumin to hire you to work full time for the RFA. You’re good at organizing and you’ve already helped me out a ton. And with Jumin’s plan to have more than one party a year, another pair of hands would be really appreciated.”

Jaehee shakes her head. “You wouldn’t need another pair of hands if _you_ worked full time for the RFA.”

M.C. makes a face. “Yeah, I know. But I _already_ feel weird taking Jumin’s money. I can’t imagine what the tabloids would say if they found out I _technically_ work for Jumin, even if he’s made it clear that I’m my own boss. That’s why I want to keep being a copywriter part time, so I’m not _completely_ relying on Jumin.”

“I see,” Jaehee says. She adjusts her glasses, the bright morning sunlight glinting off metal frames. “I will think about it.”

“You say that every time,” M.C. says. She smiles. “I’ll more than likely see you in the messenger later, but feel free to call me once you’re off work.”

They part ways, M.C. heading toward the marketing agency she works for. The walk is pleasant, the sun warming her skin. There aren’t as many people out on the streets, most having already arrived at work or school. 

Her thoughts, inevitably, turn to Jumin. He’s gone on plenty of business trips during their acquaintance. It’s not the first time that they’ve had to spend time apart. But their relationship is still so new, so fresh in her mind and heart.. She misses him every day when they’re both at work, but doubly so when he’s away, even when he’s only a phone call away. And to be gone on Valentine’s Day?

She’s never been jealous of other couples before. It surprises her to feel that cold thrill of envy when she passes a couple on the sidewalk, walking hand in hand and smiling softly at each other. She’s disheartened to learn that she’s capable of that, of resenting two people who are happy and in love. 

She frowns at the red and pink hearts decorating the window of the marketing agency. They’re placed sporadically throughout the building, with candy heart phrases like “Be Mine” and “Love U” printed on them. She passes a dozen conversations centered around plans for the day, where and when others will meet their significant others. The excitement should be contagious, but M.C. only finds her mood dropping into uncharacteristic sullenness. 

She sits down at her desk in her small cubicle. She unzips her backpack and removes her laptop, carefully avoiding looking at the small parcel wrapped in black and white striped paper. It takes a moment for the computer to boot up. While it loads, M.C. goes to the break room to make herself her second cup of coffee for the day.

Staring into her cup, trying not to feel too dejected, M.C. almost doesn’t notice the slender vase on her desk when she returns. In it is a solitary red rose, in perfect bloom. There’s no card, but there doesn’t have to be for M.C. to know it’s from Jumin.

She smiles and buries her nose in the flower, delighting in the subtle fragrance of the petals. Had he remembered the holiday, after all? Is this his way of apologizing for not being able to spend it with her?

She gets to work, her mood suddenly turned giddy. It’s a complete 180 degrees from how she felt when she’d walked into the building. She types, keys clacking as she writes copy for a website selling handmade pet toys, for a solid hour, before she is interrupted. 

“M.C.?” asks Marty the mail guy. “Got something for you.”

In his hands is another vase, with two red roses, petals and leaves intermingling. He hands it to her with a polite smile, before dashing off to make other deliveries.

Again, there is no card attached. M.C. places the vase near the first. She finds herself looking at the two vases as she gets back to work, a smile pulling at her lips.

Throughout her day, M.C. gets more and more flowers delivered. The next is a slightly bigger vase, this time accommodating three roses. Then four. She takes a break and comes back to find another vase fighting for space on her desk, in it a bouquet of five roses. Just before she leaves for the day, another vase with half a dozen roses nestled inside arrives. 

Marty the mail guy laughs as she tries to find a place for it amongst all the other vases. “That CEO really knows how to treat a lady right.”

M.C. shakes her head, smiling. “You have _no_ idea.”

“He got anything else in store for you today?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she says. She honestly hadn’t thought about it, but with Jumin, anything is possible. “He can go a little overboard when it comes to spending money.”

She takes the vase with the single rose with her, after she packs her laptop into her bag. She doesn’t have enough hands to carry everything and it would be a shame not to enjoy at least one of the flowers. The twenty roses left over will still be there when she comes into work tomorrow, transforming her small space into a sweet-smelling floral haven.

Driver Kim is there to pick her up. Silent as always, he opens the door for her and shuts it after she settles into the back seat. He takes her to her apartment and drops her off in front of her building. She makes her way up to her floor, turns her key in the lock of her door, and breathes in the familiar scent of home.

It’s her own apartment, one that she’s rented since before joining the RFA. She’d returned to it after the drama with the hacker had died down. The others had argued for her safety when she’d announced her departure from Jumin’s penthouse. Zen had even called Jumin to yell at him for compromising her safety, calling into question Jumin’s regard for her. But in the interest of going about their relationship the “right way” and with Jumin’s hesitance over living with someone without first being married, M.C. was happy to move back into her apartment.

Shortly after, Jumin asked Seven to seal Rika’s apartment, locking the other woman’s secrets away forever. Seven had risen to the task, even going so far as to build a fire-breathing robot puppy to patrol the place. “Just in case,” he’d told the chatroom, using a plethora of emoticons to denote just how pleased he was with himself for his ingenuity.

She crashes on the couch to do a few hours of RFA work. The desktop app she’d requested from Seven is still in the works, so she pulls out her phone and holds it up above her as she reads and replies to the email she’s received from party guests. Elizabeth comes out of hiding and curls up on M.C.’s stomach, purring when M.C. buries her fingers in her fur.

She also catches up on reading through the chat room. Zen is in despair about not having a girlfriend. Yoosung has been working toward special Valentine’s Day armour for LOLOL, so the most he’s done has been to pop in and out throughout the day. Jaehee has been in good spirits all day, with plans to watch a couple of Zen’s DVDs as soon as she’s done for the day at C&R. 707 has spent the day filling the chat room with heart emoticons and nonstop talk about his “babies.” Jumin must be busy at work, because she doesn’t see anything from him. With no one but her currently in the chat room, M.C. logs out of the app.

M.C. has time to take off her shoes and change into a pair of pajamas before there is a knock on the door.

She looks through the peephole in the door. She isn’t expecting anyone and after the hacker, M.C. has been extra careful. She might ditch the bodyguards Jumin has follow her around whenever she’s out in public, but only because she’s anonymous in a crowd without them. And the hacker wouldn’t strike in public, anyway. Not a man used to operating in the shadows. But at home, she keeps the door bolted and chained and always checks to see who is at the door before she opens it.

A man, dressed all in white, wearing a tall white hat, is at the door. A familiar metal cart, covered bowls and dishes laid out, is between the man and the door. A chef?

M.C. opens the door, the chain still latched. Through the small opening, M.C. says, “Hi. Can I help you?”

The chef, a small man with a thin, curled mustache, says, “Mr. Han sent me.”

It strikes her that it could be a trick. Everyone knows that she and Jumin are together now. It could be a clever paparazzi in disguise, using Jumin’s name to enter her apartment and take pictures of her, without make up and dressed in a thin pink tank top and Bugs Bunny printed pajama shorts.

She shakes her head and unlatches the chain, swinging the door open for the man and his cart. She’s being paranoid.

“May I use your kitchen?”

“Oh, yes, it’s right through there.” M.C. shows him through the apartment to her small kitchen. It barely fits the cart, but the chef manages it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, no. Dinner shall be ready shortly.”

She isn’t used to being shooed out of her own kitchen. She’s a little bit at a loss for what to do. She wants to call Jumin, to thank him for everything he’s sent her throughout the day, but he’d warned her that his business meetings would run late and that he’d call her as soon as he was able. Elizabeth winds her body around M.C.’s legs, reminding her that the Persian cat hasn’t yet had her own dinner.

M.C. picks her up and carries her into the dining room, where what she’s come to call Elizabeth’s Overnight Bag is sitting on one of the chairs. She pulls out one of the expensive tins of cat food and squeezes into the kitchen to pick Elizabeth’s crystal bowl out of the drying rack. Elizabeth watches her with an expectant eye as she pulls back the lid of the can and spoons the catfood into the bowl. She meows once before M.C. sets the food bowl down on the floor and, daintily, begins to eat.

With nothing more to do, M.C. settles back down on the couch to watch a bit of television. She finds a movie playing, something animated about a girl and a bathhouse for spirits and tries to ignore it every time her stomach growls at the delicious smell of food coming from the kitchen.

Eventually, the chef brings out several covered dishes and lays them out on the dining room table. “Dinner, madam, is served.”

“Oh,” M.C. says, hopping up from the couch. “Thank you.”

“It is no matter.” The chef returns to the kitchen to gather his things. M.C. once again squeezes passed him to pull down a plate and grab silverware from the drawer. She sets the table and shows the chef out after he wheels his cart out of the kitchen.

Elizabeth stares at her from her seat on the floor. 

“What?” M.C. asks.

Elizabeth meows.

“I’m pretty sure Jumin would kill me if I fed you people food, sorry.” 

Elizabeth licks her paw.

“Uh huh. Sure.”

M.C. laughs at herself for her imagined conversation with the cat. She sits down and uncovers each dish. There is a kale salad with avocado, quinoa, pomegranate seeds, pecans, and crumbly cheese with a lemon vinaigrette. There is steak and vegetables in a balsamic glaze. And for dessert: delicate cream puffs, topped with a dollop of whipped cream, bright red strawberries, and drizzled in chocolate. 

“Holy shit,” she breathes. 

She still isn’t used to the opulent dinners Jumin’s chefs are capable of making. Even on nights when Jumin takes her on a date, they usually eat a meal prepared by one of his chefs, whether they take it with them as a picnic lunch in Jumin’s garden or eat out on the balcony of Jumin’s penthouse. Not that Jumin doesn’t want to take her out to restaurants. He’s threatened to rent out entire dining rooms. But because of the hassle caused by paparazzi, by mutual agreement, they’ve decided to wait until their relationship has become old news. 

But now, even having had several meals prepared for her by private chef, M.C. still feels a sense of wonder at pulling the covers off dishes to find perfectly executed meals, And she still can’t believe that there won’t be any dishes to clean but the ones off which she’s eaten. 

She takes a picture of it with her phone, something that makes Jumin smile, whenever he catches her doing so. Truthfully, M.C. believes it to because he enjoys reading Zen, Yoosung, and 707’s jealous reactions in the chatroom, not because he’s fond of her antics.

Okay, well, he’s a little fond of her antics.

Smiling, M.C. serves herself. She eats, humming in pleasure.

Her phone rings, once she’s put away the leftovers and done the scant amount of dishes in her sink.

The name and photo that pops onto her screen makes her smile. She swipes to answer it. “Jumin, hi.”

“Hello, M.C.. How was your day?”

“Um, pretty amazing. Thank you for all of the gifts. They were really sweet.”

“I am sorry that I had to be away on Valentine’s day. I hope you weren’t too disappointed?”

“Well,” M.C. says, “I would have liked to have spent it with you. But I’ll see you once you get back, right?”

“Yes. I have missed you. I know that it has only been a couple days, but...” M.C. can picture him blushing on the other end of the line. 

“I miss you, too. When will you get back?”

Jumin clears his throat. “About that--”

Disappointment pools in her stomach. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be away even longer.”

“You see--” 

A knock sounds at the door.

“Wait, Jumin. Someone is at the door. Did you send me something else?”

The smile is audible in his voice. “Perhaps. You’ll have to open your door to find out.”

M.C. laughs. “Okay, hold on.”

This time, she’s too excited to look through the peephole before she unbolts and unlatches her door. She throws it open to see Jumin, the phone still pressed to his ear.

“Jumin!” She throws her arms around him. His arms wind around her, holding her close. “You’re here.”

Kissing the crown of her head, Jumin says, “I am. Happy Valentine’s day, my love.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, Jumin. I’m so glad you’re back.”

She leads him by the hand back into the apartment. Elizabeth winds her body around his legs. Jumin bends down to pet her. “And a Happy Valentine’s day to you, princess.”

Elizabeth purrs loudly.

Jumin straightens, turning to her. “I do have one more present for you.”

“You really didn’t need to get me anything else,” M.C. protests. “The roses and dinner were amazing.”

Jumin pulls a long velvet box from inside his jacket. He opens it, showing a beautiful gold necklace with a simple light pink stone pendant. “I wanted to get something a little more lasting.”

“Oh, Jumin, it’s beautiful.”

“May I put it on you?”

M.C. turns around, She gathers her hair and pulls it away from her neck. Jumin is warm at her back as he places the necklace against her skin and clasps it behind her. M.C. touches it with her fingers and leans back more fully against Jumin. He holds her, his arms around her waist. “Thank you, Jumin.”

“You’re welcome, M.C..”

M.C. lets herself enjoy the comfort of his embrace until she remembers the striped box still in her backpack. She pulls away from him, reluctant to leave the circle of his arms, but excited to give him his gift. “I got something for you, too. It’s not much, but I thought you would like it.”

She unzips her backpack and takes out the gift. Clearly surprised, Jumin takes it from her when she offers it to him.

He pulls back the paper, gingerly. He would never do something so unsightly as to rip the paper from the box. M.C. bounces on the balls of her feet, anticipation rising.

The plain brown box underneath the paper is taped shut with only a few pieces of tape. Jumin pops it open easily enough and looks inside. A small smile appears on his face as he retrieves the gift inside.

It’s a small plush cat with white fur, blue eyes, and pink ears. “Elizabeth?”

M.C. smiles. “I thought, since you can’t take Elizabeth with you on business trips, you could put this one in your suitcase.”

“She’s lovely, M.C..” He wraps M.C. up in another hug. “I love her. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He holds her for a long time. M.C. closes her eyes and leans into him. She’s still so glad that he’s here, in her apartment with her, and not hundreds of miles away. “Love you,” she says into the cotton of his designer shirt.

“I love you, M.C.,” he says. He tips her face up and presses his lips against hers. They are soft and warm and she sighs, melting into the kiss. “With all my heart.”


End file.
